


Battle Wounds

by thattrashwriterhannah



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), In Control with Kelsey (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Special Appearance by Chewie, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 03:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thattrashwriterhannah/pseuds/thattrashwriterhannah
Summary: “I had that,” he complains, but it’s winded and wet, and Kelsey cringes.“Pretty sure you didn’t, actually,” she replies. Then, because she’s a huge loser, Kelsey extends her hand and offers him a nervous, awkward smile. “I’m Danger, by the way. I’m kind of a huge fan.”He looks at her warily for a moment, clutching his ribs, then takes her proffered hand. “Yeah, I’ve, uh– I’ve heard of you,” he says. “Phantom.”The introduction is entirely unnecessary.A Ryan/Kelsey Superhero AU.





	Battle Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Kelsey has done enough cosplays of SpiderGwen and Wonder Woman to fuel my need for superhero Kelsey forever, nevermind [the BF vid where she actually becomes a superhero.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=342SLUQOjgo) I'm entirely too gay for any of it, so have a Ryelsey Superhero AU, since Ryan is absolutely buff enough to pass for one, as well. 
> 
> This fic was written for New Ship November and hopefully won't be the last I do this month. If you like it, please leave kudos and comments below. 
> 
> **PSA:** If you are Ryan and/or Kelsey, or know Ryan and/or Kelsey, the decision to keep reading is entirely yours, but this is a shippy fic, and you've now been warned.

The horrifying sound of scuffling feet, thumping blows, and wet, rasping breath fills Kelsey’s ears as she drops into the rafters through a loose vent on roof of an old, abandoned industrial building nestled in the Arts District. The smell of wet tar is quickly replaced by the sharp, metallic tang of blood and gunpowder, and she flinches as a shot whizzes past on her right, barely holding in a yelp of surprise. 

Taking a long, slow breath, Kelsey draws her focus her core, finding her centre of gravity, and manipulating it just so to crawl a steady path across the support beams and get a better angle on the fight unfolding below.  

A large, gloved first makes contact with the side of a masked face, and Kelsey cringes as she sees blood spray from the victim’s mouth, dark crimson splotching across the cracked concrete floor like a macabre Pollock painting. The masked figure grunts as another assailant catches him in the ribs with long, metal pipe. He’s already hunched in on himself, but the hit crumples him, wobbling his knees and swaying him where he stands. 

He looks in dire straits, surrounded by four muscular men in three piece suits and balaclavas, one leaning down to retrieve a handgun lost at some earlier point in the conflict, and hair stands up on the back of Kelsey’s neck. Her window is closing by the second, the weapon a high speed train, and the man in the mask pinned to the tracks. Taking one final breath to steel herself, Kelsey focuses on an empty spot on the floor and drops. 

She lands with a hard  _ thud _ in the centre of the chaos, knees bent, weight focused on the balls of her feet. The momentum propels her forward and she tucks into it, pain searing in her shoulders as they hit the unyielding ground, distributing the shock through her torso as well as her legs. The impact forces the air from her lungs, and she puts all her focus into her next breath, trying to catch it again. 

On the roll up, Kelsey swipes her leg out and knocks one assailant to his back, the element of surprise still on her side. His head hits the concrete with a sickening  _ smack _ .  Coming to her feet, she lets the centrifugal force of her motion spin her into a roundhouse kick that catches another assailant in the jaw. 

As goes the element of surprise, so too does Kelsey’s advantage. Time slows like molasses as adrenaline floods her system, every accelerated heartbeat thundering in her ears and pounding like a drumbeat at the pulsepoint at her neck. In the space of a breath, Kelsey feels the rush of hormones flooding her body like ice pumped through her arteries, then the sharp, sudden burn of her superhuman muscles coming alive under her skin. 

Kelsey senses the tingle at the back of her neck before she even registers the first swinging at her from behind, and she ducks on impulse to avoid it. From her lower vantage point, she shoves her weight into the man who came at her, still off balance from his swing, as sends him stumbling to the floor. They see the gun at the same time, and it’s only by virtue of Kelsey's enhanced reflexes that she gets to it first. She empties the clip, then slams the butt into the head of the final assailant, charging at her from her left side. 

Slamming the heel of her boot into one of the felled assailants as he struggles to get up, Kelsey hears the sickening crunch of bone breaking, but it keeps him down. She leans down to frisk the unconscious men for weapons, and tosses the lead pipe across the warehouse floor for good measure. 

It was a quick fight, no more than a minute from start to end, but still, every one of Kelsey’s muscles scream in pain. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she forces those feelings down and turns instead to the man in the mask where he stands, swaying on his feet, hands raised in fists until his brain catches up with what’s happened and he finally lets them drop. 

“I had that,” he complains, but it’s winded and wet, and Kelsey cringes. 

“Pretty sure you didn’t, actually,” she replies. Then, because she’s a huge loser, Kelsey extends her hand and offers him a nervous, awkward smile. “I’m Danger, by the way. I’m kind of a huge fan.” 

He looks at her warily for a moment, clutching his ribs, then takes her proffered hand. “Yeah, I’ve, uh– I’ve heard of you,” he says. “Phantom.” 

The introduction is entirely unnecessary, but it makes Kelsey’s stomach roil in an excited kind of way. 

“Thanks for the, uh, the save, there,” Phantom continues, taking a shuffling step forward, and Kelsey winces in sympathy at the way the skin pulls tight around his mouth in a controlled display of pain. “But, really, I would have been fine.” 

“That is not how things looked from my end,” Kelsey says, her skepticism written plain as day across her face, even obscured behind the white facepiece of her cowl. 

Phantom frowns. “Five more minutes and I’d have had ‘em.” 

“Any longer and they’d have had  _ you _ ,"  Kelsey insists. 

Phantom sputters – honest to God sputters – and Kelsey has to bite the inside of her cheek to hold in an endeared laugh. “I can phase,” he argues, gesticulating as much as he can manage with an arm around his waist. 

“Something that would have come in a lot handier a few dozen hits ago,” Kelsey counters.  

“It’s not my fault they kept breaking my focus,” Phantom says, arms flexing in his agitation. Kelsey watches the muscles in his arms ripple deliciously under the spandex-like fabric of his suit, and she tries to keep her thoughts in check while he’s still actively bleeding. 

Later though –  _ later.  _

Phantom sways again, and the way he shifts to catch himself forces a pained breath past his teeth. Kelsey takes a small, aborted step forward and frowns. 

“You’re hurt,” she says softly. She reaches out a hand, but Phantom pushes it away. His fingers leave bloodied prints on the stark white of her costume, invisible against the deep navy of his, and Kelsey steps forward once more, determined this time. 

“You’re really hurt,” she insists. 

Phantom shakes his head. “I’ve had worse,” he says, but his voice is pinched. The corners of his mouth are dark with blood, and the contrast is shocking against white, perfect teeth. “It’s fine. Thanks again. You have a good night.” 

He makes a bid for the exit, trying to maneuver around Kelsey, but he doesn’t get far before a gasp rips from his throat and his knees give out. Kelsey rushes forward to catch him before the concrete can, straining to bear his weight. She refocuses her energy and channels the strength back into her muscles, breathing deeply through molten pain that incurs. 

“It’s okay, I gotcha,” Kelsey murmurs, though she’s not sure for whose benefit. Phantom’s hands grip her biceps to the point of pain, but Kelsey grits her teeth and lets him hold her. “Do you have somewhere safe?” she asks, her voice hushed and low, whispered into his ear. “You might have a concussion. Someone should look at you.” 

“My backup are on their honeymoon,” Phantom replies sheepishly.

Kelsey huffs, rolling her eyes. “But justice waits for no newlyweds.”  

Phantom tries again to bear his weight, but his success is limited. “Just help me get out of this place and I’ll be fine from there,” he says, casting a surreptitious glance to the unconscious men in balaclavas at their feet. 

“Please don’t get all  _ toxic masculinity _ on me right now,” Kelsey says imploringly. “You can’t do this alone. Come on, let me help you.” 

Phantom flares his nostrils, but something in him must break, because he grips Kelsey's arms again and leans his weight against her. “Maybe I just don’t want  _ anyone _ to see the big bad Phantom barely able to stand up,” he counters, voice scarcely audible and laced with pain. “Ever think about that?” 

“I won’t think any less of you,” Kelsey whispers. “I promise.” 

She feels him nod against her shoulder.  

Funnelling her energy into her muscles, Kelsey hoists Phantom over one shoulder and maneuvers him into a firefighter’s carry. Heat sears down to her bones, but she forces it to the back of her mind, moving quickly toward the exit at the far end of the warehouse.

Once they’re outside, Kesley hooks one of Phantom’s arms and legs in the bend of her elbow and reaches her spare hand out to steady her balance. 

“You might wanna hold on,” she suggests, and Phantom does dutifully as he’s told. 

Kelsey takes one step back to wind up, then sets off in a run, diverting all the energy she can spare into her legs. They burn as she gains speed, then scream as she pushes enough power behind them to leap thirty feet onto a nearby roof. 

Avoiding the man streets, Kelsey takes them across rooftops to the only place she knows they’ll be safe. 

“Don’t mind the mess,” Kelsey says by way of apology as she sets Phantom gingerly on his feet and slides her apartment’s balcony door shut. 

From down the hall, nails skitter across laminate, and a ball of curly, golden fur comes running, barking full force. Phantom starts where he’s leaned against the wall, and Kelsey sighs. 

“Chewie, shush,” she chides. Yanking off one glove with her teeth as she goes, Kelsey leans over to scratch the anxious pup behind his ear, then grabs one of his toys from the ground and tosses it away for him to chase. 

From behind her, Kelsey hears Phantom chuckle softly. “Chewbacca the dog?”

Kelsey smirks. “You haven’t seen him in need of a haircut, okay?”   

“He’s not even the right colour,” Phantom’s in the middle of saying when Kelsey straightens and turns to face him, her vision going grey at the edges. His words die on his lips, big, brown eyes beading, posture straightening in alarm. 

“Holy shit, your nose,” Phantom says. Kelsey raises the back of her hand to her cupid’s bow, and sure enough, it comes away sticky and wet. “You’re bleeding.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re heavy,” she replies matter-of-factly, reaching for a tissue on the end table where she keeps them for the nights she comes back from patrol overexerted. “Besides, you’re bleeding worse.” 

As if the he needed the reminder, Phantom slumps, hissing in pain as the motion jostles his ribs. Kelsey drops her tissue by the box and wraps one of Phantom’s arms around her neck, leading him toward the soft leather sofa in her living room. 

“Come on, sit down,” she coaxes, and Phantom does. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Phantom calls after Kelsey as she disappears into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. She strips off her second glove and washes her hands under scalding water, cleaning the blood from her under nose when she catches the crimson reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are bloodshot and tired, skin worryingly pale. 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you to bleed out in the middle of downtown LA,” Kelsey calls back, eyes darting to her hands to scrub under her nails. “You’d have probably keeled over trying to stop a mugging, Mr. Obsessive, and then where would you be?” 

Kelsey dries her hands on the pastel pink towel by the door, then moves back into the living room carrying the well-loved kit, along with a small bowl of soapy water and a washcloth.  

“Still,” Phantom says, gently, as Kelsey deposits the bowl on the coffee table, then sits on the cushion to his right, angled to face him. “I didn’t mean to invade your house like this. This is kind of– kind of sacred ground in the hero game.” 

Kelsey shrugs to hide the discomfort simmering under her skin. Phantom’s not wrong. “If this is what does me in,” she says. “I guess this city’s really been putting its faith in all the wrong people.” 

Phantom bristles. “I’d never do anything to put your civilian ID in jeopardy,” he says earnestly, and Kelsey leans in, shaking her head and resting a hand on Phantom’s forearm where its crossed over his lap. 

“No, no, no,” she assures him. “That’s not at all what I was suggesting, or implying, or anything like that. I just meant that I trust you. I mean, why shouldn’t I? Big, strapping hero that you are, and all.”

Phantom ducks his head, tiny smile twitching at the corner of his full, reddened lips. A cut reopens, fresh blood pooling to the surface.    

“Your head is definitely bleeding,” Kelsey says after a moment of weighty silence, reaching out to trace a track of blood that’s run across Phantom’s cheek. 

He shivers under her touch. 

“I can get it in a second,” Phantom whispers, leaning ever so slightly forward to follow Kelsey’s fingers as she draws them back. “You can– you can leave the first aid kit here, or I can use your bathroom, maybe.” 

Kelsey frowns. “You should really let me look at it,” she says. Her fingers move again to trace the hem of his mask under the swell of his cheekbone. Phanom reaches up instinctually, gripping her wrist between warm, gloved hands. Kelsey's eyes widen in surprise, and her posture straightens. As if to himself, Phantom shakes his head, then relaxes his grip after a small, apologetic squeeze. Still, he holds her wrist loosely in his grasp. 

“You don’t have to tell me your name,” Kelsey promises him. “But you might need stitches. And experience dictates those aren’t much fun to do on yourself. So, please. I just wanna help you.” 

Slowly, Phantom’s fingers loosen from around Kelsey’s wrist and fall to his lap. He slides his eyes shut and takes a deep, grounding breath, then opens them again. They’re the warmest eyes Kelsey has ever seen. 

“Okay,” Phantom croaks, voice heavy and thick. “Take it off.” 

Still, as Kelsey reaches forward, Phantom flinches, and she sighs, sitting back on her heels and coming to a decision. 

Reaching behind her head, Kelsey unfastens the cowl around her neck and pulls it away from her face, then loosens her ponytail and lets her hair fall around her shoulders. 

“Hi,” she says, voice shaky but determined. “I’m Kelsey.” 

With trembling hands, Phantom reaches up and takes his mask off, too. 

“Ryan.” 

Even under a layer of blood and sweat and warehouse grime, Kelsey can see all the ways in which he’s beautiful. His skin a rich, tawny beige. It’s washed out from pain and exhaustion and loss of blood, but Kelsey can picture it deeper, healthy and flushed and not so broken and torn. Around the various lacerations that streak his face like shooting stars his skin is red and swollen, giving up ground to purples and blues in places where the cuts are deepest. His left eye will swell shut soon, if the spider-web bruising on his temple is any indication, but for now, both are glassy and open, and Kelsey could stare into them all day, just to watch the way he’s staring back at her. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kelsey,” Ryan whispers gently. 

Kelsey shivers. 

“You might have a concussion,” she says, redirecting her attention to the first aid kit as the back of her neck warms. “Maybe a fractured rib.” 

Ryan chuckles, then hisses through his teeth. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he agrees. “How about you? You doing okay?” 

Kelsey shrugs, wringing out the washcloth and bringing it up to Ryan’s face to wash his wounds gingerly. Ryan winces, but doesn’t complain, and she works as quickly and efficiently as she can while remaining reasonably gentle. 

“They don’t look like they need stitches,” Kelsey muses aloud. Ryan hums. “Just some Polysporin and some time.” 

Ryan huffs. “Great,” he says. “I guess that’s another– another biking accident for the office on Monday.” 

He lets out a tiny, hysterical laugh, and it must hurt, but Kelsey can’t help but join him. “I’ve told a whole lot of people I’ve walked into a whole lot of doors,” she sympathizes. 

Ryan wheezes. “Hey, have you– have you ever tried the ‘ole  _ walked into traffic _ excuse?” he asks. 

“To the point that I think I was overusing it,” Kelsey replies. “My friends had an intervention and everything.” 

“Oh, God,” Ryan laughs, then sucks in a pained breath and clutches his side. 

Kelsey frowns. “We should probably wrap those,” she says, reaching slowly across the sofa to rest her fingers over Ryan’s on his side. 

“Hey, now,” he grumbles. “They might not actually be bruised.” 

Kelsey levels him with an unconvinced look. 

Ryan shrugs. “Okay, so maybe they’re a little bruised, but let a guy have his pride, will you?” 

“I’ll use the plain white bandages instead of the pink flowery ones, how’s that for letting a guy have his pride?” Kelsey teases. 

Ryan smiles bashully, and it tugs at the split in his lip, but he hardly flinches. “I don’t know,” he says. “I might be okay with the pink stuff. If you’re the one wrapping me up.” 

Kelsey’s blush spreads to her hairline. “I think that can be arranged.” 

It takes some maneuvering to get Ryan out of his top with his ribs in the shape they’re in, but they finally manage, and Kelsey cringes as the purples and blues blotting his side are revealed. She fishes the roll of floral athletic tape from the bottom of her first aid kit and begins wrapping it carefully around Ryan’s trunk. Her knuckles brush across his abs, and the muscles twitch under her attention. 

On the final pass, her fingertips brush the waistband of Ryan’s pants at his hip, and Ryan’s hands fly up to grip her wrists. Kelsey starts and stares up at him with wide eyes that raw and full of hunger she can’t suppress. Ryan’s answering gaze is every bit as heated. 

Tense, he clears his throat. 

“Careful,” Ryan murmurs, his thumb tracing absent patterns over a particularly knobbly bone. “Sensitive.” 

“Sorry,” Kelsey whispers back. 

Swallowing thickly, Ryan lets her go, and Kelsey quickly finishes wrapping his ribs before her hands can be tempted to wander. 

“You know,” Kelsey muses, trying to keep her tone neutral, like Ryan’s answer means nothing to her. “Depending on how long the rest of your team is on honeymoon, you might need someone to have your back out in the field.” 

Ryan nods, then stares pointedly at Kelsey until she’s forced to stop fussing with the end of the self-adhering bandage and actually meet his eyes. 

“Even once they’re back,” Ryan posits. “First year of marriage. That’s– that’s a lot for some people. Most people. They’ll probably want a few date nights off.” 

“Right,” Kelsey agrees. “And I don’t have a date night.” Ryan’s eyebrow quirks subtly, and Kelsey squirms. “Because I’m single, I mean.” 

“Same,” Ryan replies. “Hard to find anyone outside of the superhero game. You know how it is.” 

“Well, then, it only makes sense we team up sometimes,” Kelsey says. “If you want. I could use someone who can walk through walls, instead of me always having to bust them down.” 

Ryan nods. “I can see how that would be tiring,” he agrees. “So, we do a Danger and Phantom crime fighting night sometime soon. See how it goes.” 

“Yeah,” Kelsey says. “I’d like that.” 

Ryan smiles, and Kelsey swears she sees him go translucent around the edges as a shiver runs through him. 

“Good. Me, too.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](https://thattrashwriterhannah.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
